


In Memoriam, ut Erudiret

by talkswithwind



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkswithwind/pseuds/talkswithwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyssa offered to train Laruel, in memory of Sara. In the first night of training they both work through their grief and come out stronger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memoriam, ut Erudiret

Nyssa's note said to meet her at the Glades Big Belly, and 'be ready to train'. I didn't know if she would be all League of Assassins and ambush me on the way, or more Wildcat and meet inside before heading off to whatever secret lair she set up here in Starling. The League seemed to have lots of those.

I went in Wildcat Gym clothing, just in case I needed to look normal for a while. Canary was in the duffel I brought along, because this was about Sara. And maybe because being Canary could rub Nyssa the wrong way and she would stop being helpful.

Nyssa, when I saw her, was just outside the Big Belly. She was wearing normal-people clothing, the first time I'd ever seen her do that. Even in normal clothes she managed to Become One With The Shadow, or something. Oliver could do that if he remembered, it looked like Nyssa didn't even have to think about it.

“Laurel,” she said, a half smile on her face. Her anger at me had softened to melancholy these days, and it was still there.

I stopped to face her. “Hi.”

Her eyes flicked up and down me. On her it might be a check-out, but I thought a check for concealed weapons was more likely. Assassins. “Are you ready to learn?”

“I'm here, aren't I?” I said, giving my duffel a waggle.

Her smile became a full one. “How long do you have?”

“I have to go to work tomorrow, but I'll give you my evenings.” Canary patrols would have to be cut back while I learned how to do it better. “And half of my weekends. Good enough?”

She nodded once. “It is. Follow me.”

Nyssa led me through a dark part of the Glades and to an abandoned appliance show-room. Her lair was upstairs, complete with torches, a big wide open hardwood floor, an empty weapon rack, a dress-dummy just like Oliver's with her League outfit on it, and sleeping bag. Very League of Assassins. She dropped her coat on her sleeping bag, revealing entirely modern Lycra black workout pants with red piping and a red short-sleeved technical shirt.

 _Apparently we're treating it like a gym. OK._ I set my bag down by a wall, slipped out of my own coat and headed to the white circle painted on the floor. The walk in had warmed me up enough I felt I could start already.

Nyssa entered the circle and faced me. “I have seen you fight. You fight from power and rage, and only some focus. I will show you how to work through the rage and keep your focus. Ta-er al Sahfer had much rage when she came to us, and you saw what she could do.”

“She didn't have that rage when I knew her. That happened on the damned island with Oliver.”

Another melancholy half-smile. “Only some of it. Let us start with simple attacks and counters.” She shifted her stance. “Focus on form as you strike me, and pay attention to how I block you. Go.”

* * *

I felt Nyssa get under my center of gravity, which gave me enough time to twist my fall to land right and bounce to my feet and back into stance. _No bruises! Hah!_

“You give in to your rage, al Jadyd,” said Nysaa, noticeably winded at last. “You over commit. Review that last encounter. What did we do?”

Breathing hard, I fell out of stance and thought back. “I came in with a left-hand strike to your throat, you countered with a forearm block and punch to my face which I dodged. And used the momentum to set up an upper-cut with my right. You parried that and attempted to grab my left, which I slipped out of. I was going to try a leg sweep, but you got under my guard and over I went. Maybe... three seconds all told?”

“Good, that is as I remember it. Where did you over-commit?”

“Um...” Everything had gone to plan until her shoulder ended up in my armpit. It took me a while to work out the distances, and then I got it. “The first strike. I got too close.”

Nyssa nodded. “Yes. But you _stayed_ close, and gave me the leverage I needed. Was your first strike intended to hit or to be a feint?”

“Feint.”

“Then treat it like one. If it hits, so be it. But follow up with a full strike. If it is blocked, so be it. But exploit your opponent's over-extension. Don't put a full strike's power into a feint, you will tire yourself out and it is harder to redirect once it is blocked. Rage, al Jadyd.”

“Damn it.” Wildcat hit like a truck all the time. “It's hard, you know? When I'm fighting it's like I can finally take the damned leash off.”

She gestured to my bag and the water-bottle standing beside it. “Let us take a break and I'll tell you a story.”

I headed to my bag while she grabbed her own bottle from beside the ring. A leather water-bottle, very Assassin. But I'd seen the gleam of metal inside when she opened it. I sat after she settled into a neat cross-legged seat.

“When Ta-er al-Sahfer was first training with me, she was so full of rage. She had training of a sort before she came to me; it was all brute force and surprise, driven by that burning rage she kept next to her heart.”

“ _How_ did that get there? No one has told me that.”

“Oliver was there for some of it.”

“Hah! Like he will _ever_ tell me _anything_.” _Without pliers and hot pokers, anyway._

She shrugged. “It's as much his tale as Ta-er al-Sahfer, so I will not share for now. But she spent time on a ship with cruel men. The Sara you knew was buried on that ship, as much as the Oliver you knew was buried on the island. She found a place of... less danger on the ship, but she had to fight to keep it.

“When she came to us she had twice lost chances to return to her life here. She was angry, and looking for vengeance. The League has a place for people like that, and so we helped her. I took charge of her training.”

“Is that how you two got together?”

Nyssa ducked her head, hiding a flash of a grin. “In a sense.” Her head came back up. “When she was learning she was more full of rage than you are now. She had power and speed. To someone dispassionate, she was easy to throw and kill. I spent weeks trying to get her to see past her rage and to harness it instead.”

She nodded at the ring. “It was in there that I saw the change in her. She began to _play_ with me.” A smile bloomed across Nyssa's face at the memory of it. She really was very pretty when she dropped the Daughter of the Demon act. “She said it was a warmup to our normal session, but I saw in her something I was beginning to think I would never see: no rage. I played back, challenging her. Smiling.”

“Oh God,” I said, my hands flying to my mouth. “She was _flirting_ with you. In the dojo. Like, full-contact flirting.”

Nyssa nodded, face still smiling. “She was. At first I thought I was merely doing everything I could to make her the best Assassin she could be. But it became personal. And more than just in training.

“She became _so_ much better after that. She learned to fight without rage with me, which gave her the tools to fight _anyone_ without rage. You saw how well she learned, al-Jadyd. What will be the thing that gets you past your rage? I see much of her in you, greatness can be your path.”

I ground my teeth. “I'm not seeing it yet.”

“I do. And I will show you the way.”

I stared at her. “I seem to have picked up a new name tonight. What does it mean?”

“Ta-er al-Jadyd, the New Bird.”

That sent a spike of emotion through me. My eyes filled with tears. I wondered what Sara would have thought of that. From the looks of it, Nyssa was having similar thoughts. “That's all from you, isn't it? It's not a League name?”

Nyssa shook her head. “I named her. It is fitting that I name you. And no, my Father will not record that name. You must come to us.”

“Sorry, I don't see that happening.”

Nyssa gave me a sly smile. “Even if Oliver accepts and becomes the next Ras al-Ghul?”

“I'd hate to see how Ras manages to make him do that. If it's Oliver with the ring, I'd probably be in as 'Black Canary'.”

“We shall see. Let us continue,” she said, and stood.

* * *

I lay flat on my back, staring at the rusty girders in the ceiling. “Ow.”

Nyssa stepped into view. She was as wet as I was, but wasn't even slouching. _Bitch_. “You've done well tonight.”

 _Maybe not a bitch._ “Good. Same time next week? I think I should be able to walk by then.”

She laughed, an expression I'd seen a few times that night. “Tomorrow.”

“Oh, God. And I thought Wildcat was hard.”

Still smiling, Nyssa said, “Think on greatness Ta-er al-Jadyd. Tomorrow we work on technique, teaching your muscles and your mind.”

“Oh, God.”

“It will be less energetic, I promise.”

“In memoriam, ut erudiret. I will come.”

Nyssa cocked her head. “In memory, we train?”

I stared at her. “You speak Latin too?”

“I am the Daughter of the Demon. And what will you be?”

The hard floor was beginning to give me a headache. “Standing, but I think I'll need a little help.”

Nyssa offered me a hand and I levered my extremely aching body into vertical. Ta-er al-Jadyd wasn't catchy, but it was mine. And maybe I could make it great.


End file.
